Page 51 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

“Imustbelieve it,” Christian insisted. “I would know if he was dead. I wouldknowit in my core. The constable said he found his carriage but did not find a body. Surely, that must mean that Marcus somehow escaped.”

“But where was he going? What reason did he have for taking the carriage out of London? That is what worries me.”

“I will find him, Mother. I know it.”

“I pray you are right. I would give anything to have both of my sons home with me again.”

Christian moved to rise, but then he remembered the small furball in his lap. He picked it up and walked over to his mother.

“You know I will do everything I can,” he said earnestly.

His mother gave a single nod in response, her lips thinning as she fought back tears. She was a proud woman, and he rarely saw her let emotions get the better of her.

Someone cleared their throat.

Christian turned around, the kitten held loosely in his fingers, and his breath caught in his lungs.

Louise was standing in the doorway, but she was no longer the Ice Queen he had once met. She wore the gown that he had purchased for her, and as he looked her over from head to toe, he had never regretted a purchase so much in his life.

How am I going to stand at her side all night, unable to touch her, with her looking like that?

She was dazzling, and as he continued to stare at her, he felt his breeches tighten.

The dress was cut low, showing a dark crease between her breasts. The dark red fabric complemented her hair to perfection, as did the red feathers placed at the back of her head. A ruby necklace that he recognized as his mother’s adorned her neck, and the golden embroidery on the bodice glimmered in the candlelight.

Christian realized belatedly that his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it abruptly.

“At last,” he bit out, trying to mask his desire. “I have been waiting for over twenty minutes. I believe I asked you to be punctual.”

“You said, ‘Do not be late,’ Christian, yet you neglected to tell me when you wished to leave. That is hardly my fault.”

Christian stiffened as his mother chuckled behind him. He handed her the kitten as punishment, but she looked very pleased to take charge of it, which only annoyed him further.

“I see you have made friends with Jack,” Louise noted, sounding pleased.

“I have done nothing of the kind,” Christian replied bitterly. “He climbed up my leg against my will, and I shall evict him from the house if he does it again.”

He tugged at his tailcoat, his fingers flexing against the dark fabric. He had worn a deep red ensemble that evening, and it became clear to him now that it had been a subconscious decision to match his wife. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and frowned at his cravat, which, despite his valet’s attempts, always seemed askew.

He tugged at it, tucking it more neatly around his neck, before turning to his wife. He crossed the room toward her, his frown still in place.

“You make a most handsome couple, I must say,” his mother said warmly.

“Thank you, Sabine,” Louise replied brightly.

Christian offered her his arm, irrationally vexed that the woman he had married for convenience’s sake seemed to have befriended his mother.

“Are we leaving, or will you prattle on for the whole night?” he huffed.

Louise rolled her eyes at him before she took his arm, and he led her out of the house.

As they approached the waiting carriage, Christian nodded to the driver. The footman opened the door, and they both climbed inside.

The small confines of the carriage only made things worse for him. Being mere inches from Louise, her scent surrounding him, his length hardened almost immediately.

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but that only made him ever more conscious of her scent. Louise looked utterly unaffected as the carriage took off, staring out the window, her eyes catching the light from the oil lamps, her skin aglow with a soft golden hue.

“Were you late on purpose?” Christian asked peevishly.

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